


Bittersweet Symphony (The Verve)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [39]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Analingus, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguments, Bottom Dean, Castiel having a rough time, College, Getting Back Together, Light Bondage, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Therapy, Top Castiel, True Love, Working their shit out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: Two years after 'Hold Me Down', Castiel tries to build a life without Dean, until a surprise tears it all down again.





	Bittersweet Symphony (The Verve)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so you know how I only ever write happy endings?
> 
> Yeah, that's still a thing.

Bittersweet Symphony (The Verve)

            Castiel’s first year of college was amazing, except for the emptiness that haunted his every waking minute.  He marveled at the way a person could get used to living in constant pain.  And he _was_ in constant pain, like a piece of his soul was gone.  After his graduation, he’d promised himself he would do whatever he had to do to go on with his life without Dean but keep faith that he would someday return, and they could start over.  He wanted that so badly that whole weeks would pass when it was all he could do to get out of bed in the morning.  He started having imaginary conversations in his head with Dean, about everything from his messed-up family to which new Lays chips would win the contest to become a permanent flavor.  He went to the on-campus shrink after a few weeks of that, when another student asked who he was talking to in the cafeteria and he realized that he’d started speaking his side of the conversations out loud.  So, he went to the free therapy sessions and he did what the councilor recommended.  He concentrated on his studies, he sought out healthy interactions with fellow students, even made some friends.  He kept in contact with Charlie, who had moved into an apartment off campus with Gilda and he made sure she knew he was truly happy for her.  She had been accepted at the other university in their area, so he didn’t get to see her often and he tried not to wonder if she saw Dean around school.

 

            Gabriel was around a lot more now.  He never said it was because Castiel was living in the dorms, but he didn’t say it _wasn’t_ , either.  His brother’s intermittent visits always seemed to happen when Castiel was at his lowest, thoughts of Dean and the fear of never seeing him again bogging him down and sapping his determination to live his own life.  Gabriel had some kind of sixth sense and would come around, dragging Castiel to a midnight showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show or forcing him to accompany him to a new pizza place that had just opened in town.  He never, ever mentioned going to a party or setting Castiel up on a date.  The look on Castiel’s face the first and only time he mentioned dating was enough for Gabriel to let the subject die completely. 

 

            Castiel didn’t date, ever.  He let anyone who showed interest fade away when their efforts remained fruitless.  He let everyone he hung out with assume he was asexual.  He wasn’t, of course, he found some men attractive.  He even thought about a couple of them off and on throughout the year and wondered what it would be like to date them, but it always came back to the fact that they weren’t _Dean_.  It didn’t escape his attention that all of them bore a striking resemblance to his lost love, either.  He decided it wasn’t fair to them or to him to embark on a relationship based on an attraction to someone else.

 

            He was relieved when the semester began to wind down and he was able to throw himself into studying for his finals.  He had made it clear to his friends that he was unavailable to go out for the duration.  Part of ‘living his own life’ was doing well in school so he could find a job doing what he loved.  Charlie’s constant harping on him for being a grammar Nazi had finally turned into a desire to be a copy editor.  On his better days, he imagined a whole life for himself, reading work from his favorite authors before anyone else and getting to be the one to help them get it published.  Of course, his mental images would be disrupted by the sounds of someone in his dream kitchen singing random Zeppelin songs and he would flinch away from the fantasy, disgusted with himself for being so weak.

 

            He was so immersed in his Shakespeare text that he didn’t immediately register the voice that called his name quietly as he sat in the library on a Friday night.  He dropped a finger down on the page to mark his place in _The Tempest_ and looked up as he said, “Yes?”

 

            “Heya, Cas,” Dean smiled down at him from where he stood next to the table, not two feet away.

 

            “Hello, Dean,” he responded automatically before he shook his head and looked back down at his book.  He read three more lines before he marked his spot again and looked back up, fully expecting the apparition to be gone.

 

            “Shakespeare, huh?  That’s pretty heavy reading for a freshman.  You majoring in English? Hey, where’re you goin’?”  Castiel was frantically gathering his books and stray notes.  His highlighter got knocked to the floor at Dean’s feet and he bent over to pick it up.  “Don’t you need this?” he asked as Castiel stood up too quickly and knocked his chair over.  The clatter made Castiel pause and the girl sitting at the other end of the table hissed a loud ‘Shhh’ at him.  Castiel snatched the highlighter out of Dean’s hand and picked his chair up, shuffling his pile of coursework into his left arm as he did.  As soon as the chair was upright, he made for the nearest exit like the Devil was after him.  He'd been doing so  _good_ , how could this be happening again?!

 

            “Hey, man, wait up.  Cas!  I just wanted to _talk_!” Dean called after him as he jogged to catch up.  A big group of chattering students came busting through the library’s double doors and halted Castiel’s flight from insanity.  Dean touched his upper arm and Castiel flinched away violently, making several people in the group of students pin Dean with disdainful looks.  Castiel looked from them to Dean, then back again.  They were clearly looking at _Dean_ , not Castiel, which meant that Dean…was real.  _Dean_ was here.  Dean _was_ here.  Dean was _here_.  No matter how many times he said it inside his head, it still felt like he was cracking apart at the seams.  Once the entrance was clear, Castiel walked out the doors and hurried down the sidewalk toward his dorm.

 

            “Hey, damnit, Castiel! Will you fucking hold up a minute?” Dean asked angrily.  Castiel stopped abruptly and Dean almost ran into him.  Castiel turned around slowly.  Dean was still so perfectly gorgeous.  His eyes picked up the yellow light from the lamps along the sidewalk and threw it back in gold glints surrounded by pools of leaf green.  His face was flushed, cheeks pinked slightly, either from running after Castiel or the embarrassment of being mistaken for an abusive boyfriend.  His beautiful lips were still plump but set in a scowl that was prettier than it should be.  “What the fuck, man? Why won’t you talk to me?”

 

            “I-I…I…I…th-thought you…I didn’t know if you-you… _shit_!” Dean looked taken aback at both the stammering and the outburst.  Castiel looked away from him, straightening his books and papers into some kind of order, capping his marker, anything, to give himself a minute to calm down.  After two years of struggling to live a life without Dean in it, his brain just couldn’t wrap around the fact that he was _back_ , standing right _there_ , a real, tangible presence.  He took a deep breath and pushed it back out slowly, counting backward from twenty, just like his therapist taught him to.  “I’m just…shocked, I guess.  My apologies.”

 

            “Shocked? Well, I gotta tell ya, Cas, that is not the response I thought I’d get.  I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Dean laughed sarcastically.

 

            “Happy? **_Happy_**?” Castiel fought mightily to lower his volume as anger swept through him.  “I know you don’t know this because you haven’t spoken to me for _two years_ , but I went through _Hell_ after…after…after you told me you ‘needed time’,” Castiel raised his right hand in an air quote and Dean _smiled_ , like it was _cute_.  “I’m _still_ going through Hell.  I had to _train_ myself to get out of bed every day, knowing I might never see you again.  I had to _practice_ speaking to other people without bringing you up in conversation.  I have yet to go on a _date_ with another person because none of them are **_you_**.  Not to mention the therapy I started because I started talking to you in the cafeteria and **_you weren’t even there_**!” Castiel’s chest heaved as he fought for air after his tirade.  Dean stood staring at him in shock.

 

            “I have to go,” Castiel muttered and turned to leave.

 

            "No, wait, please,” Dean begged.  Castiel stopped again but refused to turn around.

 

            “Why are you here?” he whispered at his shoes.  “After what I did, Dean, how can you even want to look at me?”

 

            “I already told you, two years ago, Cas,” Now, Dean was standing close, his breath brushing aside Castiel's hair.  He didn’t know whether to run for his life or throw his books away and cling to Dean until the Sun went nova and the Earth was consumed in its expansion.  “I love you and I forgive you.  I just…I needed to grow up, a little.  _You_ needed to grow up a little.  We both needed some distance from what happened, from each other.”

 

            “Two years, Dean,” Castiel sighed, his shoulders slumping.  He finally squared his shoulders again.  “Why did you wait _so long_?”

 

            “I went to your graduation,” Dean mumbled, looking down, “You looked so…I don’t know, happy? Relieved? Peaceful? I’m not sure, but you looked like you’d…moved on.  I didn’t think you needed me.  And-and…that was okay, ya know?  Just because I never stopped loving you didn’t mean you had to return the feeling,” Dean laughed sadly at that, “That was kinda the problem the first time around wasn’t it?”

 

            Now, it was Castiel’s turn to look away shyly, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”  He looked back at Dean and tried to see him objectively, maybe for the first time.  He had grown another couple inches, just a little taller than Castiel now.  He’d also added quite a bit of muscle to his frame, but the flat stomach Castiel had once trailed kisses over had gone over to a bit of a pudge.  It looked like Dean had carried the Freshman Fifteen into Sophomore year.  He needed a haircut and his shoes had a couple holes in them.  He looked _good_ , but not like anyone was taking care of him, not even himself.  The way he talked was different, too, more confident, bigger words.  He was being open and honest and surprisingly adept at expressing his feelings.  “You’re different,” Castiel stated flatly.

 

            “Well, yeah,” Dean smiled, something that hadn’t changed even a little bit, “it has been two _years_ , Cas.  You’re, uh, you look…shit, man, you look really amazing!  Like, really, **_really_** amazing,” Dean’s voice took on that deeper timbre that sent chills racing down Castiel’s spine.  “Hey, could we maybe go somewhere a little…less public?” Castiel looked up at him suspiciously, “Just to talk, man, I swear!” Dean held both hands up in surrender.

 

            Castiel rolled his eyes, “When have we ever been able to be alone and _just talk_?”

 

            “Point,” Dean conceded, “But maybe we could, ya know, start over?”

 

            Castiel tried not to let his heart jump out of his throat at those words, the words he’d been waiting to hear for two years.  No matter what promises he made himself, no matter what he told his therapist, no matter how many surface-level relationships he cultivated, he knew he’d be lying if he told Dean it was too late.  The truth was, he’d rather die than face a future without Dean because he turned the man away when he finally came back.  It wasn’t even a question of whether they were any good for each other or if they might hurt each other again.  They could be each other’s ultimate destruction and Castiel would still walk happily into the fire.  They might only ever cause each other pain, but there would be love there, too, and that was all he needed to tell Dean 'yes'.

 

            “Follow me,” Castiel turned back around and led Dean to his dorm room.

 

 

            Two weeks was all the time it took to undo all of Castiel’s good work.  Two weeks, three real dates, and two chaste kisses were all that was needed to crumble the façade he’d been hiding behind.  He knew now that he would never have been able to live without this, not indefinitely, at least.  The fundamentals of Dean hadn’t changed in the slightest.  He was still full of an inexplicable good cheer that spread like a communicable disease everywhere he went.  His smile charmed everyone around him and left them feeling better about themselves.  He still lived for other people, staying close to home to continue to help his mother and little brother out.  He still forgave too easily and saw _into_ Castiel like no one ever had.  He still ate too many rich foods and not enough vegetables or drank enough water.  He still loved his car and treated it like royalty.  He still put his whole heart into every single thing he did, whether it was school or hanging out with Sam or binge-watching Star Wars.  He was still a force of Nature, like gravity, inexorable and undeniable; and Castiel fell willingly back into orbit.  And Dean was happy to have his satellite back.

 

            “Cas?’ Dean murmured into his neck.

 

            “Hmm?” Castiel hummed as he leaned into the contact and ran a hand up under Dean’s t shirt to cling to the warmth of his skin.

 

            “You’re thinking too loud,” Dean breathed across already-moist skin, nibbling his words away down the expanse from Cas’ earlobe to the base of his neck.  “Weren’t you doing something?”

 

            Castiel reluctantly sat up with a sigh, looking down at his boyfriend from his position straddling Dean’s hips.  Thickly-corded arms stretched over his head, wrists red from the ties wound around them, the deep blue one Castiel wore to his high school graduation and the blue-light blue-red striped one he wore for his college entrance interview, his hands turning slightly purple because he kept pulling and twisting at the ties where they were laced through the metal rungs of the headboard.  Castiel’s gaze traveled lazily down to Dean’s face, where the hectic pink of arousal had his freckles popping out, to his kiss-swollen lips as he chewed on the bottom one.  Cas snuck his fingertips under the hem of Dean’s white t shirt again, brushing lightly-haired skin just enough to make a full-body shiver run through Dean.  He grinned evilly, “Maybe I should have let you take your shirt off first.”  Dean hummed distractedly as his eyes locked on the shape of Cas’ fingers under the cotton.  “But then I couldn’t do this,” Cas laughed as he pulled the hem of Dean’s shirt over his face and behind his head.

 

            “Hey!  Stop!  Get it off, Cas!  I can’t see shit like this!” Dean struggled, his head moving up and down as far as he could, back and forth, like that would do any good.  His hands were dark with trapped blood now, but he didn’t still until Cas placed his hand over his heart, pressing there firmly enough to make Dean stop wiggling around.  Castiel heard his breath catch as he tried to see through the thin white material to where Cas was touching him.

 

            “I have a confession to make, Dean,” Cas could feel the galloping heart under his hand break into a full-on race.  “This is how I’ve always liked you best.  Tied up and unable to get away, if you even wanted to, all for me.  No one will ever appreciate everything you are, so why should anyone ever get to touch you like this?” Castiel smoothed his hand across Dean’s firm chest, pinching first one nipple, then the other.  “Taste you like this?” Cas trailed his tongue after his fingers, licking one sensitive bud after the other into tight peaks.  “Have you like this?” Castiel scooted back a bit to run his tongue in a swirling line down Dean’s quivering stomach.

 

            “Cas,” Dean breathed shakily as he tried to spread his legs wider, but Castiel’s legs held him down.

 

            “Don’t try to act like you don’t love this,” Castiel smiled as he pulled the waistband of Dean’s boxers up and peered inside at Dean’s cock, already as purple as his hands, where it twitched and leaked against his hip.  Castiel sucked a mouthful of skin into him mouth, moaning at the bite of salt, and worried it, sucking and biting gently.  When he let it go with a pop, he looked back up Dean’s body, watching his chest work like a bellows, little keening whines working their way past the white cotton as it puffed out and sucked in with every panting breath.  “You love being owned.  You love being _mine_ and only mine.  Say it.”

 

            “Cas, _please,_ baby,” Dean whined.

 

             “Say. It.”

 

            Dean sucked in a deep breath and held it as Cas pulled his boxer off and flung them across the room.  The deep breath was punched out of him when Castiel roughly pushed his legs apart and shoved his knees up, lifting his ass off the bed entirely.  He was as exposed and vulnerable as he would ever be like this, tied up and spread out, unable to see or touch but helpless to stop Cas from seeing or touching.  “I’m yours, Cas, only yours!” he exclaimed, probably too loudly for the small dorm room, but at this point, Dean couldn’t find enough blood to feed his brain so he could consider the possibility that other people might not want to hear them.

 

            Castiel hummed in satisfaction as he spread his own knees and lowered his upper body down, Dean’s heavy legs slung over his shoulders, and went to work licking Dean open.  Dean’s hips jerked up with a breathy ‘ah ah ah’ when he pointed his tongue and ran a trail of spit along his perineum, flicking his balls where they hung down, and watched with a grin as they tightened up with every caress of tongue.  Castiel pushed the backs of Dean’s thighs back further, bringing his hole closer.  He licked a broad stripe across it, then bit the fleshy cheek to one side, chuckling when Dean yelped.  Done teasing, Castiel set to licking, sucking, tonguing Dean’s pretty pink pucker with the same fervor he used in kissing Dean’s pretty pink lips, savoring every grunt, groan, and plea from the man above him, until he deemed Dean ready for his fingers. 

 

            Slicking up three fingers, Castiel slipped two into Dean’s spit-shiny hole, relishing the hiss he gave at the burn.  Castiel had learned pretty quickly that Dean needed a little bit of pain with his pleasure and he wanted to give Dean everything he needed, forever.  Moving his fingers in and out, he purposefully avoided Dean’s prostate until Dean gave in and begged, “Cas…baby…please…come on…”  Castiel added the third finger and fucked them into his boyfriend quicker, rougher, slowing down only to tent his fingers and stretch Dean’s sensitive rim.

 

            “What will you give me?” he asked cheekily.

 

            “Ngh…ngh…ah…ah…fuck, baby…ah…anything…anything you want, Cas, just **_please_** …” Dean was a sweating, wiggling mess now, struggling against his bonds, his legs twitching and toes curling relentlessly.

 

            “Anything I want?” Castiel curled his fingers and rubbed Dean’s prostate hard.  The older man’s breath punched out as he pushed back into Castiel’s fingers and screamed behind the t shirt.  Castiel pulled his fingers out, slicking his cock up with the remaining lube and lined up with Dean’s hole as the man panted and whimpered under him.  Cas positioned himself over Dean’s heaving chest before lowering his mouth to just over Dean’s, the thin cotton still between them.  “I want _you_ ,” Castiel breathed, then jerked the t shirt off Dean’s face even as he sunk his cock into Dean’s slick hole.  Dean’s face was a mask of shocked pleasure, eye half-lidded, mouth open and gaping.  Castiel latched onto that mouth, plunging his tongue in a matching rhythm to the way he fucked his cock in and out of Dean, not giving him any time to adjust.  Dean moaned into Cas’ mouth, beyond words now, and Castiel sped up.  He didn’t want to or try to be careful, fucking Dean rough and fast, just like he knew Dean loved it.  He couldn’t maintain the kiss as he rode Dean harder, faster, and they ended up breathing into each other more than kissing.

 

            Castiel planted his knees and grabbed the back of Dean’s knees, folding him completely in half and went in for the kill, his hips pistoning impossibly fast as Dean grunted under him, wide, green eyes locked on Cas’.  “I…I love…you…Dean,” he managed before he needed all the air he could get.

 

            Dean’s face softened a bit as his eyes raked over Castiel’s red face, “I love you, too, Cas,” he whispered.  Castiel unleashed, nailing Dean’s prostate roughly with every thrust, until the man threw his head back and bowed off the bed, his dick spurting thick stripes of come across his stomach as it bounced between them and he groaned loudly.  Castiel’s mouth opened on a silent scream as his own orgasm overtook him and the rush of tingling warmth spread throughout him to match the warmth he pumped deep inside Dean.  Releasing Dean’s legs, he bent over to kiss Dean sloppily even as he fucked him through their aftershocks, licking Dean’s little sounds out of his mouth until his hips slowed and stopped and they lay there panting their recovery.

           

Maybe it was unhealthy, a little too codependent and a lot fucked-up, but it was _theirs_ and Castiel had decided that if they _both_ went into it this time with their eyes open, then they might just be able to make it last.  Castiel was done judging their love by the standards of everyone else because they just weren’t like anyone else.  Dean thrived in the light of Castiel’s utter devotion, he visibly wilted when they were apart for too long now that they’d gotten back together.  Castiel was only happy when he was hovering over Dean, either mentally or physically.  Two weeks into their fresh start and Castiel was just as obsessed as before.  The big difference now, besides the knowledge that what he’d done had been horribly wrong, was that they both knew how the other felt.  They were finally on equal footing in their mutual fixation and it was all Castiel had ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone likes the end.
> 
> I'm going to do what I planned and clean up the Playlist a little.
> 
> I'm going to be taking a little break from it, though. I have two Wincestiel stories I'm working on and I might be a little busy with them for a while.


End file.
